A Very Potter Cherik AU
by Science-project-failure
Summary: Modern-setting Harry Potter AU: Erik and Charles were born in 1995, at the dawn of the Second Wizarding War. Erik lost his muggle parents, killed by death eaters not long after his birth, and was raised in a secret orphanage for victims of the War. Charles is part of the wealthy pure-blooded Xavier family. It's now 2012 and they're in their fifth year at Hogwarts. T for now
1. The Boy In Blue

**The boy in blue**

The dorms were eerily calm this morning. All of the usual scallywags were deep asleep and the light from the torches were blown out. Erik got up from his bed, slipped on some shoes, and made his way to the common room. It seemed no one was up, and with reason, Erik noticed. The emerald colored light that usually illuminates the room during the day was but faintly present and the torches were once again blown out. It was still dark out.

That was Erik's hard luck that morning that he woke up and found himself unable to go back to sleep. He took a shower, ate, read a book, but nothing could shake that itching feeling that something was wrong. A stroll through the corridors could help clear his mind. He could make the excursion to the Astronomy Tower and watch the sunrise with a bag of Bertie Bott's beans. Yeah, that sounded like a plan.

After nearly falling to his death by tripping over an x-box controller, Erik decided it might not be too bad to light a few torches. Boys made a riot yesterday, _Call of Duty_ marathon and wizard liquor. They could have cleaned it up. He _lumos_ed first to locate the torches and tapped gently at them murmuring _incendio_.

In nothing but pyjama bottoms and a t-shirt, Erik made his way to the halls, making sure to grab a blanket on the way. It was chilly outside. October had just recently set and Scotland's reputation for all-year coldness made itself ever present. He knew Filch was asleep at this hour so he knew the classes would be unguarded. He also knew he'd be alone.

He took his time, sometimes chatting up quietly with the ghosts and the paintings that were up. He felt alright, not good nor bad, just... confused, confused as to why today was a no-sleep day. He figured his brain must have thought it was a school day and misplaced the fact that it was currently the weekend but that would not explain the reason why he woke up at four in the morning. Usually, his no-sleep days were at very specific times; his parents' deaths' anniversary, pretty much the whole month of February, stress periods and such. Today was no special date and it most certainly wasn't stressful.

When he finally reached the last few steps to the Astronomy Tower, he felt something was out of place. A quill tip, ring, metal binder; someone was in there.

Erik slithered stealthily across the wall, not making a sound, and sought across the small balcony with his eyes. What he saw was a boy in blue.

A boy with short dark floppy hair was sitting in a chair facing outside. He was holding a quill in one hand and some parchment in the other. He was writing to a soft blue light emanating from his wand rested atop his ear. Suddenly, the boy's head snapped up and he slowly turned. But Erik had made sure to make no sound, how could the boy have known he was there?

"Who are you?" ,the boy shouted.

Erik came out of his hideout hands and wand in the air.

"I come in peace and mild annoyance. I'm Erik Lehn―"

"Erik Lehnsherr, I know you. We have potions, DADA and charms together, don't we?" Erik recognized the boy. Boy who was not a boy; as a matter of fact, this guy was a fifth year like himself.

"I think so, yes." Erik was still a bit befuddled. Out of all the people he could run into, he ran into _him_? When did this guy grow a rebellious streak?

"I'm ―"

"Charles Xavier. Everybody knows you. God, I'm sorry I startled you, I feel like such a tit."

"No trouble, friend. What are you here for?" Charles inquired.

"Can't sleep. I've come to see the sunrise."

"Ah. Much like myself. Why don't you grab a seat?" Charles pushed a chair in his direction as he settled back into his.

Erik took the offer and sat right next to the boy in blue. He'd just now noticed that the boy's clothes were Ravenclaw pyjamas and as he was wearing his house pyjamas too, he might as well have dubbed himself _the boy in green_. _The boy in blue_, what was he thinking, a mystery novel title?

"How did you know I was there?" Erik broke the silence once again.

"There was a very steady stream of _stealthy-notasound-whoisthis-peek-stealthy_." Charles couldn't help the smirk on his face at the other boy's adorable confusion.

"I don't... understand...?" Erik asked, after a silence.

"I'm a telepath and you were basically shouting your thoughts across the room."

"...You can... read my thoughts." Suddenly, the air changed and Charles didn't feel as easygoing and comfortable anymore.

"I'm sorry I peeked. I―I shouldn't have." He stuttered.

"No, it's not your fault. I'm the one who... shouted." Erik offered.

"Theoretically speaking." Charles huffed out a small chuckle.

"Yeah..." Once again, a comfortable silence set itself in the room. But chatty and restless, Charles couldn't help but ask.

"So, _Lehnsherr_, not a very English name." He inquired shyly.

"My family was originally German, my grandparents moved to England after the muggles' Second World War. I'm Jewish, you see. I'm also a muggle-born."

"Do you speak German?" Charles asked, fascinated.

"Yes. I speak Yiddish, French, Spanish... I traveled for some time." Erik offered a small smile at Charles big blue eyes, round in admiration.

"Oh really? Where to?"

"France, Russia, Switzerland... It's complicated."

"Oh. I lived in America for seven years." Charles presented, dumbfounded and a little bit silly.

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Cool."

And with that last word, a scarlet glow appeared in the horizon as the sun, greeting the sky as it did every morning, was slowly waking the world.

* * *

TBC


	2. Potions and Self Retrospection

**Potions and self-retrospection**

_Oh my god. Oh my god! Ohmygodohmygod OH MY GOD! HE TALKED TO ME! HE DID! OH MY GOD! I'm going to DIE! Oh my god I have to talk to Emma about this!_

To an otherwise untrained eye, Charles Xavier, a fifth year Ravenclaw at Hogwarts, must have seemed completely composed and absolutely normal. No one could tell, from his posture or even his speech, that an internal monologue, such as presented earlier, was going on stoutly and unceasingly in his mind.

When said young wizard entered his common room, a trained eye, so to say, snapped up in his direction, while the few other students adorning the room, including the house snobs led by Amelia Fitzwell, noticed nothing. The trained eye was a fellow Ravenclaw, why of course he was in the Ravenclaw common room after all, a tall blond with piercing eyes and a cold demeanor.

Emma, in all her grace, appointed a scrutinizing look at the young Xavier and fixated on him for a few seconds more than necessary. To anyone else, it must have seemed like a very small glaring match, but it was in fact a very small conversation.

_Emma! EmmaEmmaEmmaaa! I have to tell you somethiiiiing!_

_Calm down or you'll have an aneurysm._

_Don't be so sour, Emma. Rejoice! He talked to me! He talks!_

_Who? The Slytherin boy you occasionally fantasize about?_

_Occasionally?_

_Okay, very frequently fantasize about._

_YES!_

_No need to shout, Sugar._

_WHY YES I NEED TO SHOUT HE TALKED TO ME. _

_Did you declare your undying love to one another? Or at least make out?_

_Unrelated!_

_Then stop shouting, you are giving me a headache._

_Sorry... We watched the sunrise together._

_You did?_

_And we shared Bertie Bott's beans._

_Oh yeah?_

_Yeah..._

_You should have shoved your hand down his pants._

_EMMA!_

_Just sayin'._

For a very strange reason, the few Ravenclaws surrounding the telepathic pair suddenly winced as a small but dull headache settled into their brains.

―X―

In another part of the castle, another student, perched on a balcony and listening to music on his MP3 player, had a somewhat different internal monologue about the exact same events.

_Charles Xavier. Mmh. He's nice, I suppose. He's not the bratty rich kid I thought he would be. He's very... smart. I have to admit that is pretty attractive... He's pretty attractive... I guess. I mean, he has a nice face. He's got a nice a lot of things, actually. He's a bit, uh, adorable. Like a lab rat. I wish I could put him in my pocket... But then if I wanted to... No, that would be gross. I like him normal sized. I should talk to him more often._

To anyone else passing him by, Erik Lehnsherr, fifth year Slytherin at Hogwarts, must have looked very menacing. No one could have guessed that very mundane thoughts were currently crossing his mind, a thing that happened very much more often than not. People attributed this fear to his features, square and brooding by nature, but strikingly handsome.

Erik tried to explain time and time again that this was actually his resting face and that he was not constantly thinking murderous thoughts, as according to some nefarious rumours. After a few years of constantly insisting on the fact that he was not actually a brute, he finally resigned from trying and started to ignore the frightened people that passed him in the halls. Not that there was a whole lot of them, but a few first and second years were absolutely terrified of him. He tried smiling at them once, which just further accentuated their fear of him.

Despite his reputation, Erik Lehnsherr was far from friendless. He was a boy of many talents, especially in muggle games and drinking challenges, and with a little bit of fire whisky in him, he became the life of the party. He was not a house snob either, like a particular Ravenclaw clique, and had friends scattered through every house in Hogwarts.

Of course, he would have darker periods and sulking moments, such as the month of February, and he was not the cheeriest or the most talkative of students, but with the past he had, he was in a pretty good condition, so to say.

The girls, though, did not see his gloomy allure as something upsetting. On the contrary, a great deal of the feminine population of Hogwarts found him mysterious and sexy, of course. Countless women would send him from the shyest box of love-laced chocolates to a pair of sultry underwear. He would get almost daily attention from girls in his classes, and even a teacher at one point, to which he was partially clueless. Erik did not pay a particular attention to women. Only Magda had ever been with him, until he eventually found out he preferred Magda's older brother.

With a shrug that only had meaning for himself, Erik pulled out his cherry wood wand and proceeded to twirl it in the air, changing the floating leaves in his vision into small fireworks. That's what a summer working at Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes will do to ya'.

―X―

The next week, in a nutshell, consisted in Charles and Erik _randomly_ bumping into each other (har! har! Charles, you infant) and smiling shyly at each other, sometimes exchanging a few words.

That, surprisingly, was actually something the students noticed, and mildly paid attention to. For one, a smiling Erik, out of the confines of his house rooms or the Quidditch pitch, was as rare as a unicorn sighting in the muggle world. Even the portraits, to whom Erik talked very often, were somewhat surprised that Erik showed so much friendliness towards a boy he had only recently made proper acquaintance with.

All of a sudden, the first and second years weren't as frightened by Erik as they used to be. As a matter of fact, and to Erik's utter confusion, some of these anxious kids started greeting Erik with determination, exhaling sharply and unbelieving when Erik dumbfoundedly greeted them back, to the hilarity of Erik's closest friends.


	3. You Have Goosegrass In Your Hair

**AN/:** Sorry for the late update! I misplaced my iPod which contained the third chapter of this story and then I had to beta and revise the whole thing. **IMPORTANT! **I have this headcannon that Dennis Creevey took on the DADA teaching role, once all his studies were done with of course. When he saw his brother die, he swore he would take it upon himself to teach everyone how to protect themselves. Thus, DADA.

* * *

**You have goosegrass in your hair**

Erik had but scarcely made contact with the muggle world ever since his acceptance into Hogwarts. He did not even remember if he ever had a friend outside of school. He had a ton of muggle-born friends, that wasn't the problem. He just didn't remember what being a clueless muggle felt like, not that he was for very long. Of course, he kept up with what was happening outside of the wizard world, but he didn't feel the need to go back to his roots, not anymore at least. Even with all the pain he's been attributed because of magic, he now could never imagine a world without it. That's the sort of thought that crossed Erik's mind that morning while he was on his way to his Defense Against the Dark Arts class.

Upon entering said class, Erik automatically spotted the unruly head of dark brown hair he kept (happily) running into for the past few weeks. With a grin firmly in place on his face, Erik muted his thoughts to the best he could so he could surprise the Ravenclaw boy scribbling frantically, as he always was.

Suddenly, the boy's head snapped up. _Damn._

Erik quickly hid behind a marble column. He had forgotten, being busy trying to sneak up on a telepath, that if he thought too hard about not thinking, he would be thinking even harder and thus mentally louder. It was time to change his tactic.

_Hey! Charles, can you hear me?_, Erik thought as hard as he could.

After a moment, his answer came.  
_  
Of course I can, what going on?_Although Erik could not see Charles' face, he could feel his fellow wizard's glee.

_You see that desk behind that column?_ Erik tried not to snicker. _I put something in the book about the werewolves for you. Go get it.  
_  
Charles got up from his seat and ran to the table without looking behind it. Leaning on the column, right behind Charles, was Erik, waiting for his moment to strike. He silently walked until he was only an inch apart from Charles who was furiously riffling through the book in question. He loomed over the smaller boy, making sure not to touch him. He put his hands behind his back and waited.

"Find anything interesting about werewolves?", Erik said.

"AAAAAAH!", Charles screamed in surprise, turning around breathless to find a sniggering Erik, folded in two.

"Hahahehehee!" Erik couldn't contain himself any longer; partly because of his success at spooking Charles but mostly because of the other's utterly shocked expression.

"You fucking cunt!" Charles was still holding his rapidly beating heart and started to laugh as well.

Other fifth years from both their houses started to fill the class as well, casting confused glances at the aloof pair.

It took a good two minutes to calm them down.

"I didn't know you'd get startled like that. You look so strained, like a pixie that took one too many mandrake leaves." Erik noticed as they took their seats.

"I've been working on this thesis for the Department of Blood Status at the Ministry of Magic lately. I hardly get any sleep these days."

"Sorry."

"No trouble, you are one of the very scarce few to have achieved sneaking up on me. It's quite a feat."

"Open your books at page 93 and get your wands out, please!" Professor Creevey shouted the class back to order and Erik and Charles executed the task.

"Today, we will revise different spells against malignant bewitched objects. A bewitched object will soon appear before you on each table and you and your partner will have to disarm it. I ask you to please NOT touch the object before I say so AND without precaution. I am looking at you, Mr Diddle."

"Why me?"

"Because last time, you set fire to your hair. Now, on pages 93 through 98, you will find the different spells and the cases to which they apply. Sensorial clues will help you recognize one malignant spell from the other although I firmly advise you use your visual, auditory and olfactory senses only as these objects are probably dangerous to touch. Revealing spells may also be necessary for some of the objects so I demand a very thorough examination both before and after the disarming spells. A token is hidden in every object. If you can salvage it safely, you can keep it. Please do be careful."

There was the distinct rumble of apparition and the students discussing in the background.

"So, what is your thesis about?", Erik inquired.

"It's about the factor that enables us to do magic. I'm trying to determine whether it's genetic or blood-transmitted."

"You can determine that?"

"If I can convince the Ministry to give me the necessary funds and team for the research then yes.", Erik was in awe.

"Wow. How old are you again? Forty? With seven doctorates, you say?", the Slytherin prodigy couldn't help but babble incredulously.

"Shut up, I am perfectly my age."

"It's just, how are you so brilliant?"

Charles tapped two fingers to his temple.

"I can attain my brain's functions at a higher capacity than normal humans. Comes with being a telepath, I guess._ Revelio!_" Charles cast the spell at the small wooden chest that appeared on his and Erik's table.

"Which brings me to my next question; _how_ are you a telepath? And try the _suspicious skin _spell."

"Try it yourself, it's your turn. Anyway, my parentage comes from breeding with fae, who are telepaths. At the beginning of the Xavier family tree, you can find _'Exalus Symandruill Cleos'_, a fae. He is my great-times-eleven-grand-father. He's the only known fae to have shared his bloodline with another species."

"Why? _Osento Dermis Reveli!_", Erik cast towards the chest.

"The Fae, much like elves, are species that rely on purity. At the time of my family's creation, there had been a violent genocide within the fae and Exalus, fearing instinction, decided to save the heritage through the strongest, purest wizard family he could find. He impregnated Dadela Xavier who gave birth to two sons, each of them gifted with telepathy.

"So, every Xavier is a telepath?"

"We've never had a squib so yes, although I do not know if the use of magic is necessary for telepathy."

"Huh. I can manipulate metal and I never knew why." Erik's expression suddenly sobered.

"Maybe you have a dwarf ancestor?"

"I don't know. My parents were both muggles, not that I really had the time to know them at all."

"I'm sorry..."

"No use getting sorry over something you didn't do. Besides, it was more than fifteen years ago." Erik turned to Charles with a small apologetic smile tugging at his lips.

"During the Second War?"

"Yeah. My parents were one of the targeted families."

"My father also died during the war, he opposed himself to Voldemort. Was the spell ineffective?" , Charles inquired.

"Give it time, it can take up to five minutes. But yeah, that's true, the Xaviers were one of the pure-blood families who didn't affiliate with Voldemort. One of the Braves." And Erik's good mood was back.

"Yes, well... I couldn't say we were _brave_, we hid in America for seven years.", Charles replied sheepishly.

"Hiding does not make you not brave, not giving in does. And in that case, I'd say the Xaviers were really brave. Also, is our trunk turning red?", the Slytherin pointed the previously black wooden chest. It was slowly turning cherry red.

"I believe it is. Can you give me a hair?"

"Ow. Here, never have too much hair. But why?"

"If your hair burns and makes red smoke, it's the _Inferno Canandra_spell, the one that makes objects burning hot upon touch.", Charles explained.

"How can you know?"

"A hair that's only recently been pulled is still alive. Only a live thing can activate the spell and burn. Anything else that comes in contact with the object in question just stays at the appropriate temperature. And if it simply burns, it's not the _Inferno Canandra _spell, it's just a common heating spell. And I don't think there are any of those in here since this is DADA, not Charms."

"You are a genius.", Erik deadpanned.

"I know."

"You could have used your own hair though."

"Of course not, how else am I supposed to ruin you." The Ravenclaw boy couldn't hold back his smug expression.

Erik squinted at Charles in mock defiance.

"You are a genius but you are _evil_. You are an _evil genius_."

"Yep."

With about forty-five minutes in advance from everybody else in the class, Charles and Erik happily laid back, their chest disarmed and completely harmless. They chatted casually, laughing at the other students silently while eating the chocolate frogs they retrieved from their trunk.


	4. A Spell A Day Keeps The Dark Lord Away

**A/N:** This one is for Sinattea, because your reviews are awesome and absolutely made my day : (although I got to them kind of late XS) And I'm sorry, you're right about the seventeen/fifth year mistake XS let's just say they're sixteen. Also, this one is a little short, sorry.

* * *

**A spell a day keeps the Dark Lord away**

It's always funny to a point. At an opportune moment, sometimes, a joke stops to be funny. Most people would disagree with this statement while being unable to provide proof that it is inaccurate. If the total unification of Erik and Charles' friends was ever to participate in this debate, however, they would have definite proof that a joke can still indeed be funny, even after several weeks.

Emma could say that she still laughs at that time when Charles was staring (_it was legitimate observation! Don't make me sound like a creep!_) at Erik in Potions and poured fire tree essence all over his robes. Or that time when Charles ran face-first into a column because Erik smiled at him.

Janos, for his part, could forever tease Erik with that time he fell asleep in Runes and had a... quite vocal dream about Charles. Of course, he was only cooing nonsense about the Ravenclaw while drooling on his notes but in Erik world, that was totally uncool (secretly, it was totally cool because Charles was giving Erik sexy times in that dream).

Ever since that morning in the Astronomy Tower, two of Hogwarts brightest students had turned into complete and utter idiots...

For one another.

And all of their mixed community of friends were having a laugh riot about it. Except for Moira, Moira thought it was cute. And maybe Raven, maybe she was having a little _too_ much fun with it (Charles has never ever ever imagined such crude thoughts could ever come out of his wee little sister's mouth. Ever.)

And as ever, the two blundering idiots in question were as oblivious as a wall.

"Uh?"

"I said, Weasley Wizard Wheezes is thinking of expanding to Scotland― were you even _listening_ to me?" Someone was clearly irritated towards Erik which was, in all fairness, nothing new.

"No."

"God, Erik, you are such a jerkwa― oooh, what do we have here!" Something that had previously slipped his attention now caught the eye of a formerly pissy Armando.

"You're staring at Xavier again, aren't you? Ha, you're so smitten it's not even funny! No wait, it's funny. Nevermind." All bad moods cast aside, Armando was now laughing earthily at a tomato-faced Erik.

"Shut up."

"Oooh, '_shut up!' _Gee, Mister I-have-an-iron-rod-stuck-in-my-bum, I wonder how I can come up with a proper comeback."

In a slow motion worthy of the best thriller/action movies, Erik turned his head towards the snarky American Gryffindor, all pretence of shyness well away from his face, looking positively murderous.

"Gee, Mister The-only-way-I-can-manage-to-survive-the-next-few-minutes-is-because-of-my-mutation, I wonder how you can."

"Oooh, look at my wrist, I'm nearly late for being far far away from here. Gotta go." And with a clumsy flail, Armando got the hell out of dodge.

"He's looking at you."

"What? Where?"

"Five o'clock, don't look! Ah, you twit..." But it was too late. Charles had whipped his head towards Erik never minding Raven's firm advice to _not_.

In the second his gaze had connected with Erik's, Charles broke out into a large grin. Erik, who had worn a similar expression, blushed and ducked his head.

"You _schoolgirls._" Raven rolled her eyes so far into her head they could've stuck, not that Charles noticed.

"Schoolboys, actually. Dear sister, I'm well aware that I am equipped with the male apparatus and firmly believe Erik is as well." Charles replied dreamily.

"First off, talking about your junk, ew. But Erik's, I don't mind, you know. For further notice... When you are finally tapping that ass, you are telling me _everything_."

"Raven!" Charles had at least managed to sound slightly appalled.

"What! I'm just sayin'." The other snarky American Gryffindor tossed her hair elegantly over her shoulder.

"Where did you even _learn_ those words." Charles asked, slightly grossed out.

"Uh, Charlie, I'm fifteen, okay? Not twelve."

"Don't call me Charlie, it makes _me _feel twelve... And you're late for Divination."

"Oh my god, whatever." In the expected typical teenage reaction, Raven stormed out to her Divination class.

_It's just, when are you going to __**bone**__ him, already?_

_RAVEN!_

_Again, just sayin'._

"Can you _accio _a person?"

"What? No! Why?"

Alex pondered his answer before giving it to Armando.

"Well, let's say I summon Charles and Erik to the Room of Requirements and locked them in there until they come out married or something, could I do that?"

"First of all, _no_. And even if you could, it would be extremely dangerous." Armando, the usually loud kid that he was, was a bit exasperated.

"Uh, right. I didn't think of that."

"Of course you didn't."

"Fuck you."

"You too."

"I didn't mean it, you know you're my bud."

"I know."

"Good."

A moment passed in comfortable silence until someone, identity as of yet unknown, barged into the door of the study room the two friends were in.

"Hello, Stooges Second and Third. I need a word." A blonde Ravenclaw girl stood in the doorway, gaze cool and unshakeable.

"Oh no, it's the Ice Queen." Armando shivered.

"What does she want from us?" Alex, unamused, attempted to stare her down. Only he couldn't. Because he was attempting to stare down Emma Frost who could, like, kill you with her brain.

Before Armando could even reply the words '_I don't know_', Emma spoke again. "We have to do something. If I hear Charles whining about Erik and his perfect face one more sodding time, I will set someone on fire. And then freeze them."

"Woah." Alex and Armando said in unison. For a moment there, one of them even might have let slip a '_scary'_.

"Can you even _do _that?" Alex asked, awestruck.

"Honey, charms class is only useful if you listen." With the demeanour worthy of royalty, she took a seat next to the boys.

"So, my little ponies. How do we do this?"

* * *

**CLIFFHANGER? OH, BUT I THINK SO. I am back in business with this baby!**


	5. No Rest For The Wizard

**A/N:** Heeeey! thanks again to Sinattea for her amazing review on the fourth chapter and thanks for all of you who are loving, reading and following this fic, it means a lot :) The action is coming, you just sit tight ;P

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**No rest for the wizard**

"So everybody remember what they have to do?" Raven asks the troops sitting in front her.

"Each of you has a plan. Each of you will _communicate_ to the others. If one's attempt fails, their successor has to move on to their plan and so on until Goober Boy and Disturbing Teeth are getting it on very much away from the inside of my head, okay?" This time, a fierce blond Ravenclaw addresses the troops.

Emma had had her share of headaches and unwanted empathy for months now. The faster Erik and Charles were banging each other, the faster Emma's mind will go back to its regular Charles-free state.

All seated in the Room of Requirement Raven had conjured up, (a safe place to keep Charles and Erik out while they plotted their demise) the _troops_, consisting of Charles and Erik's varied assortment of friends, all reviewed their plans and started making necessary preparations.

Sean would go first with idle suggestion, asking Erik questions, implying how much of a good person Charles is, etc. Next on would be Alex, charged with making Charles and Erik meet "accidently" at every possible occasion, magic used in scarce non-conspicuous instances since Alex is not really all that bright and the Slytherin prodigy that is Erik is very much able. If that fails, in comes Darwin. He is supposed to brew small courage philters and introduce them into the targeted boys' food so they finally confess to one another.

If _that _fails, Moira takes over. Moira and Erik bonded over their blood status and the fact that both of them have been chosen as prefects for their respective houses, it wouldn't be hard for her to convince him and Charles to meet with her outside curfew hours (when it gets to a certain point, Moira is supposed to announce that she's "really tired" and "ought to go back to the Hufflepuff basement. Erik, you make sure Charles gets to his room safely when you go back, won't you?"). She's also a really good occlumens so Charles wouldn't be able to read her thoughts, not that he would but still.

Now the big guns would be Emma. She's the final solution, the plan Z, if all else fails. Her method is somewhat unorthodox though. She plans to merge Erik and Charles' minds, allowing them to see each other's thoughts about the other. In other words, or Emma's words, it's a mind love sharing fest. It was that or torture.

―X―

At morning, in the Great Hall, there were falling and twirling leaves in the bright October sky depicted by the enchanted ceiling. The four long tables were lined with pumpkin pies and corn bread as well as festive decorations betraying the approach of wizards' most favored holiday, Halloween. Young Erik Lehnsherr, fifth year Slytherin at Hogwarts, was sitting at his house table alone, revising notes for a Potions exam he was to take this afternoon. He had barely been able to memorise anything; every time he thought about Potions class, he thought about the messy haired Ravenclaw that took seat beside him. His cheeks would slowly flame as his lids would lower and his gaze would haze, mouth slightly open, mind fresh with the memory of one recent dream or thirty. He would bask in the lust and heat of his own thoughts until a red-headed lump of freckles bashed into his daze.

The mellow-tempered character that was Sean, a fifth year Hufflepuff at Hogwarts, had just crushed the bubble of delicate lewdness and carnal affection Erik had built for himself without realising. Sean would later learn that his interruption was counter-productive to the task he had been given. He'd been given a day after which Alex would take his place, also given a day and so on until the Daft Duo had finally hooked up.

And so began the ominous aura that would follow Erik for the whole week.

It seemed harmless at first, Sean posing observations on how much cheerier Erik had been for the last few weeks. Erik started to doubt Sean's intention when the red-head mentioned blue eyed Ravenclaws. For being about as subtle as a brick, Sean had not been discovered by Erik. He'd been suspicious, and the Slytherin was wary, but he had not been discovered.

Staying until he had an excuse to leave, Sean implemented, suggested, but nothing took except for the increasing pressure behind his back at Erik's cold glare. At the end of the day, he had failed his ultimate mission. All the implications he could have planted before he was coerced into his common room had resulted in some motivation but no action.

They still had time, he told himself. They had known all along that it would need more than a ginger lacking discretion to bring the two students together. But they still had time.

Objective was set before Halloween.

Emma had decided that in all her strength, she would not be able to tolerate a single Charles at Halloween. Why? Well, Emma was a bright girl. She had known Charles long enough to know that he was not always a happy drunk. In periods of longing such as this one, he became a whiny drunk.

Knowing full well there would be alcohol to knock out all the unicorns in the Forbidden Forest, she was intent on having a happy, non-pining Charles if he was to be around that much l liquor.

Her computing mind and evil genius would ensure the two idiots' union; much like Charles himself would do if he was put in the same position, for entirely different reasons of course.

As cold as she might have seemed, Emma was one to actually care about the people she loved. Charles had been one of the few to crack her frosty armour and nestle into her heart. She was doing this out of annoyance, of course, which is totally not pretence by the way, but she was mostly doing it out of love. And partly pity because Charles was a _nasty _whiny drunk. The only thing she could use as her advantage, if ever the failure probability margin of 0.0000000001% had doomed them to an unsuccessful matchmaking before Halloween, is that whiny or happy, Charles was a slutty drunk.

With the sun far gone and the moon up high, Alex steeled himself for tomorrow's big mission.


	6. Ghost Musing and Teenage Philosophy

**A/N: **I am _sooooooooo _sorry for this über late update! I make up for it later in this chapter. **WARNING:** There may be some sexually explicit content below. Also, Sinattea and all the other fantastic people who have reviewed this fic, I love you and I hope you will like it. It's now on AO3, if anyone's wondering.

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**Ghost musings and teenage philosophy**

_It was misty outside, or was it inside? Erik had no idea and he honestly didn't care. There was a low, murmuring voice in the air around him and it was oddly familiar. _

_A pair of hands coming out from nowhere started roaming up Erik's body and he felt at ease, with a hint, a spike of something that wasn't quite definable yet. He leaned into the touch, letting himself be fondled and caressed by the ghostly hands. _

_He closed his eyes to focus on the voice when he recognized it; the posh English lilt of none other than Charles Xavier. He opened his eyes to see Charles' face about an inch from his own, ghosting his lips as close to Erik as he could without ever touching him. His eyes were unnaturally blue, his nose, cheeks and lips, a viciously deep shade of red. It was like everything was caught in a fog, illuminated by light that seemed to emerge from within. _

_The two hands, now attached to a body, slid down Erik's t-shirt covered torso until they reached the hem of Erik's pyjama pants. A warm hand slipped inside and began stroking and twisting and pulling just the way Erik liked. Said Erik was grabbing thin air, which oddly felt like sheets bunching up in his fist. The hand kept stroking and twisting and pulling until Erik couldn't stand it anymore. With a final tug, Erik came. And _woke up.

"... Shit."

-X-

Good thing his roommates were heavy sleepers. This could have been horribly embarrassing if one of them had witnessed what had just happened. Good thing the four poster beds had heavy curtains too. Erik had just sleep-masturbated to some hazy fantasy of Charles at, he checks his alarm clock, 12h 13 in the morning. In his opinion, he couldn't possibly get his hands on the Ravenclaw's body soon enough.

-X-

In another far away part of the castle, one very awake Charles Xavier is taking a shower. At 12h 13 in the morning. The main reason why he is taking a shower so late, or some would say, so early, is because he has some business he would prefer if no one witnessed. Well, except for one person who this whole business is kind of really all about.

You see, Charles is a healthy young man, a young man with needs. And a certain someone has been throwing massive amounts of oil in the fire of his needs. His needs, now practically steering his whole body on a code almost simpler than binary of "jump him" and "don't make a mess", tell him he seriously needs to get off. So he does. At 12h 13 in the morning.

-X-

About eleven hours and forty-seven minutes later, Charles was striding down the stairs to an empty study room without a single guilty look on his face. Nothing, appearance and demeanour wise, could have betrayed the smouldering soup of white hot lust boiling through his insides, behind his perfectly innocent school boy mask.

Upon entering the room, Charles bumps into the one person he didn't expect to see at the moment but was deliciously pleased to have done so; Erik.

"Erik? Hey, what are you doing here?" He asks, of course.

Before Erik can even formulate an answer, too dumbstruck to utter anything, Alex talks.

"I suck at potions so Erik's tutoring me for that."

Confusion smears across Charles' face.

"But I thought I was tutoring you in Charms."

"Oh! Right. I needed you both to tutor me in different courses so I thought I should just get both of you here at the same time, to kill the proverbial two birds with the equally proverbial stone."

Erik and Charles looked quizzically at each other.

"Totally no ulterior motives here."

Yeah. Of course not. You terrible liar.

-X-

He was just trying to have that small inch of contact; pinkies grazing, thighs touching. All that subtle contact that made the pain of restraining himself so much sweeter, like scratching an itch that has been bothering him for so long. It was funny in a sense, Charles was not... uneducated in that area either. He had been with one or two guys before he'd ever met Erik in the Astronomy Tower, he knew what it felt like to have someone else's hands pressed where he'd ache, someone else's weight on his back. So to be flustered by a single chaste scuff of skin was bewildering and also very frustrating. He felt twelve all over again.

No, he didn't feel like that twelve year old boy delving into sexuality for the first time, scratch that. A twelve year old boy wouldn't be ready to show Erik just how much he was knowledgeable with his tongue. He wouldn't even _be _knowledgeable.

And then, suddenly...

_I fucking want you, fuck._

Oh.

-X-

"Here's homework." Charles says as he hands Alex a stack of paper.

"Due Monday." Erik says as he also hands Alex a stack of paper.

And they left in unison.

-X-

What little cool their demeanour had left them as soon as they were alone. Charles backed Erik into a wall with a vicious kiss and Erik responded with equal fervour. It was all tongues and lips until they heard laughter in the hallway.

_Shite, someone's coming._

They parted, rearranged themselves, and stalked hurriedly up the stairs to the third floor.

-X-

It's several hours later, or more like three hours later, really. In the past three hours, Erik had found out that: 1. Charles is a slut, 2. He didn't mind, and 3. He was kind of a slut too. They had gone well over petty projections in the middle of the night (or very early morning) and fleeting touches in those three hours, having been chasing each other around for what felt like years.

"Fu-cking. shitee. fucK." Erik bites Charles' ear and grips his hair hard, tugging his head back.

"Oh, ooh oHhoffffuuuuckkmeeefuuckkk..."

They are pressed against a bookcase, in the deserted third floor library. Charles' cheek is pressed into the books while Erik takes him from behind. His loosened shirt is bunched upwards to his shoulder plates and his underpants and trousers are pooled around his ankles. His tie, rumpled, hangs around his neck still. Charles's eyes are closed and his mouth is opened in pure ecstasy, whispering filthy gibberish.

Erik, for his part, panting hard, shirt completely undone, hair askew, and trousers and underpants to mid-thigh, is unable to do anything any other way than messy. He presses open mouthed kisses to the nape of Charles' neck while grunting mostly incoherent praise. His hands hold on unceremoniously to Charles' thighs as he thrusts into him. They're fucking in a deserted library like the horny teenagers they are.

Then the door creaks open and the sound of footsteps appear, along with some muttering about potion physics and "fucking charms homework". Charles and Erik still. It's Alex.

The Ravenclaw with the dick currently up his ass _accios_ his wand silently and casts a disillusionment charm on both him and the owner of said dick. Alex is aware of nothing.

Erik starts moving back again, bumping Charles, who lets out the lewdest moan, into the bookcase, catching him off guard.

Alex turns around, startled by the sound.

"Who's there?"

_Let's fuck with him._

Erik accentuates his proposition by slowly thrusting in and softly kissing beneath Charles' ear.

Charles shudders and agrees, biting his bottom lip and smirking.

Erik rocks Charles into the bookcase hard once again and Charles lets out a shout.

"No, seriously. Who. The _fuck_. Is there." Alex looks visibly worried now.

"Ghosts... who else...?" Charles says in an airy voice, and snickers.

Alex sits back down. "Probably just ghosts."

When Erik thrusts in, this time, books fall out. He grunts audibly as Charles meets his thrust, his smile wicked and sinfully red, just like in his dream.

"Ok, that's _it_." Alex rises again.

Erik doesn't even bother with the joke anymore; he just thrusts in earnestly now, panting hard, head hung low. Charles falls back into the bookcase and spills more books onto the floor, moaning like a whore.

"Fucking ghosts...", Alex says as he slowly approaches the bookcase.

Charles opens his eyes in time to see Alex's puzzled expression through the hole made by the books that fell out. It's stronger than him; Charles lets out a loud giggle.

"Did you just _giggle _at me, Casper?" Alex says to what he perceives as thin air.

Erik braces himself with a hand on Charles' shoulder and thrusts up really hard, tugging Charles' cock with his other hand. With a clueless Alex inches away from his face and Erik fucking into him like there's no tomorrow, Charles moans long and loud. Erik responds with "ah"s and "oh"s as he too feels the impact of his newly restored pace.

"Are you hurt or something?", Alex says quizzically.

Charles moans a "harder" in encouragement.

"Oh my god... Are-are you _fucking_?"

Erik lets out a high pitched "fuck!"

"Oh my GOD! You ARE fucking! Oh my GOD!" The Gryffindor shouts with a look of horror on his face.

Erik feels so close now; his perfect pace starts to wither as he moves erratically into Charles, his mouth forming a perfect "O". He moans like he's in pain but what he is feeling is so much more pleasant.

Alex starts running back to his things. "Oh my GOD! There's _ghosts _fucking! How is that even _possible_!"

Erik comes with a soft "ah", finishing Charles off, who was equally close, with his hand.

"Ghost fucking! Oh my GOD!" Alex runs out of the room.

Charles and Erik, completely spent, lay in the afterglow, still pressed up against the bookcase and against each other. All of a sudden, they start to laugh uncontrollably.

Well, there one person who's never coming back to this library.

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**HEHEHE WELL HOW ABOUT THAT. Spoiler: the others still don't know.**


End file.
